


Trampled Under Foot

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things rarely go right for the Winchesters, so when a hunt goes perfectly? Damn right it's a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trampled Under Foot

They really should have showered before they did this, Dean thinks, but at the time, he had other things on his mind. The hunt had gone perfectly, a rare occurrence in their lives, and when he and Sam had gotten back to the motel room, they were positively beaming at one another.

Of course they needed to celebrate.

He's on his back, scratchy motel sheets grating against his skin as his fingertips slide and stutter over Sam's hipbones, trying to get his brother's soggy t-shirt to just come unstuck already, practically plastered to Sam's chest, soaked in sweat. He can see Sam's nipples, erect beneath his brother's shirt, and the sight is too much to resist circling one with his thumb, feeling the tender stub as he lifts Sam's shirt with his other hand.

"Dean, you are such a _tease_ ," Sam says, legs straddling his hips as he stretches his arms upward, along with the shirt, and tosses the garment aside. Sam grabs his shirt, a patch of caked dirt separating itself from the dark cotton as he lifts his arms and lets Sam pull it off. He wonders how dirty they are, how much grime is smothered into their skin, but then Sam kisses his exposed neck, bliss making the thought disappear. He closes his eyes and presses his head into the pillow, stretching his neck for his brother, letting Sam kiss and suck at the sensitive spot there.

"Says the guy who – " Dean begins, but Sam's lips are suddenly on his, sealing his words away. He reaches up to cup Sam's cheeks, a tender gesture that he does automatically, before sliding his hands over his brother's broad back, slipping over the sheen of sweat on Sam's skin. He presses a thumb into Sam's lower back, right over the spine, and Sam tenses automatically, hissing as his brother breaks the kiss.

"If I'm such a tease," Dean says, admittedly feeling bad for using the over-sensitive spot to his advantage, "then why are your pants still on?" He slides a hand down until it's beneath the waistband of his brother's jeans, taking a moment to savor the curve of his brother's ass before groping it, feeling Sam's muscles tense and relax beneath damp skin, silk boxers clinging to Sam the same way the shirt had.

"Because you haven't removed them yet, jerk," Sam replies, and Dean can see the fire in Sam's eyes, knows that Sam is going to make him pay for teasing him like this.

"Didn't know that was my job, bitch," Dean says, his grin widening. He doesn't get to relish his victory for long, though; Sam's hand is suddenly between his legs, long fingertips spread over his crotch, warm and insistent, and he moans as he rolls his hips towards that heat, pressing himself into Sam.

"Fuck, Sammy." His jeans are too tight, denim stretched taut, and he bucks against his brother's hand, hoping to get the message across that he wants his jeans off, wants them off right the fuck _now_.

"Hope you don't mind." There's a smug grin on Sam's face, and Dean has to bite back a whimper as Sam draws his fingers over the outline of his cock, too little pressure too late.

" _Fuck_ ," Dean says, his breaths hot, harsh heat trapped between his lips and the expanse of Sam's exposed neck. He works quickly to undo Sam's belt and zipper, shoving his brother's jeans down as soon as they'll go. Sam pushes them off the rest of the way, and then Sam is unzipping his jeans. He lifts his ass off the bed to allow Sam to work his jeans down, then pulls Sam down for a kiss, fingers carding through his brother's long, damp hair. His tongue slides slowly, wetly over Sam's, and as he reaches towards the nightstand for the bottle of lube, Sam has managed to get his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks them off, still in his boxers, but Sam takes care of that quickly, removing them with a swift tug.

"Give me that," Sam says, gesturing towards the lube.

Dean hands it over as he raises an eyebrow.

"You really are impatient tonight." Dean smiles. "I thought you liked it slow and sensual."

"Not tonight, Dean," Sam says, words almost too blurred, too fast for Dean to make out. He watches as Sam struggles with his own boxers, but when he reaches out to help, Sam bats his hand away. Instead, as Sam pries them from his skin, he slides a thumb over Sam's shoulder, presses the pad of his finger into the freckle on Sam's neck. That's when he notices a patch of dark crust over his brother's clavicle. Curious, he brushes his thumb over it, smudging it into Sam's skin.

It's that moment of looking at it, of realizing that it's dirt that crumbles against his skin, not crusted blood or oil or soot, that Sam moves, long legs sliding down, away from his hips, dark hair framing his brother's face as Sam leans down and swirls his tongue around the head of his cock. A surge of heat coils deep inside him as he moans, hands sliding away from Sam and into the sheets, fisting the cheap material.

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," Dean says, voice deep and husky, and he can't believe he went from teasing to sounding absolutely wrecked in the span of ten seconds.

"Not tonight," Sam replies. "Going to do something different. Been wanting to do this for a while."

Dean can't see most of Sam's face, but he _can_ see his brother's tongue, flat against the underside of his cock, and he groans as his eyes flutter closed, arousal blossoming deep in his core as Sam licks the v of skin on the underside, slicking it with saliva.

"Fuck, Sammy," he moans as he reaches down to grasp his brother's hair, to keep Sam right where he is. He doesn't care what Sam has planned; bliss makes him thrust against his brother's tongue, and all he wants is to feel that slick heat all over his cock, wants Sam's lips around him, swallowing him until he comes with Sam's name on his lips.

To Dean's surprise, Sam pulls away. He opens his eyes, determined to give Sam the most hurt look he can manage, but Sam is grinning at him. Curiosity keeps him silent as Sam swings long legs over his body until all he can see is his brother's back, broad and muscled, glistening with sweat.

"Sam?"

"Just watch," Sam says. The _pop_ of a cap echoes in the room, and Dean knows that Sam must have the lube, because the bottle is nowhere to be found. He tries to peer around Sam, to see what exactly his brother is doing, but even with his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the night, he can't see a damn thing past his brother's body.

He hears the cap close before Sam tosses it onto the bed beside him. Sam's hand comes into view, sliding down his brother's back, and he can't help but lick his lips in anticipation. He gasps when Sam's fingers slip between his cheeks, a fingertip pressing against the tight ring of muscle, and Dean watches, slack-jawed with fascination, as Sam pushes one finger inside to the knuckle.

"Fuck," he moans. His breaths are coming faster now, and god, Sam's ass is so close to his cock that it's almost unbearable, the need to be inside his brother suddenly overwhelming. Sam's hips sink onto his finger, pushing himself onto it, and _christ_ , this is more arousing than it has any right to be.

It doesn't help that Sam is sliding his finger in and out, moaning with every push inside, and Dean can tell from how loudly his brother moans that Sam really _has_ been wanting to do this for a long time.

By the time Sam slides a second finger in, Dean wants to fuck Sam senseless.

"This is what you've been waiting to do? Christ, Sammy." His voice is thin, breathy, gaze riveted to the show Sam is putting on for him. He slides his tongue over his lips as Sam presses a third finger inside, and his muscles clench, as though his brother's fingers are inside him, not Sam, because he knows how big Sam's fingers are, and while they're not nearly as pleasant as Sam's cock, he can only imagine how his brother feels right know, stretched wide on his own fingers, knowing he's watching every move, every flex of muscle.

"This is only half of it," Sam says, sliding his fingers out before thrusting them back in, the squelching sound of lube barely loud enough to be heard over the moan that echoes in the small room.

Dean swallows hard, and yeah, Sam is begging for it now. He puts his hands on his brother's hips, barely resisting the urge to pull him down onto his cock and just take him already.

"Let me fuck you," Dean whispers. "Fuck you good and hard. Make sure you feel it tomorrow morning."

"Fuck, Dean, _god_. But I want to look at you, I want to see you." Sam removes his fingers, one final _squelch_ before his brother moves, slipping out of his grasp as he turns, facing him, knees to either side of his hips. He watches Sam take the lube and flip the cap, then pour lube onto his cock, clear and semi-solid, and he can't resist a shudder as the cool gel comes into contact with his heated skin.

Sam tosses the bottle aside, then slides his hand over Dean's cock, and _fuck_ , he can't help but thrust, sliding easily against Sam's hand as his brother slicks his cock.

"Fuck," Dean moans. "Just -- fuck, Sam. Please."

"Want to feel you inside me, Dean," Sam says. "Want to feel you come inside me."

"I'm going to come sooner than that if you keep this up," Dean says, voice thick, struggling to form words between heavy gasps of air. Sam seems to get the message, though, because his brother moves forward and positions himself over Dean's cock. He has to dig his fingers into his brother's skin to keep his palms from sliding, but he pulls Sam down, and Sam sinks onto him, and jesus, Sam is tight and hot and it feels _so fucking good_.

His balls are against Sam's ass before he knows it, and Sam lets out a deep grunt before clenching around him. He moans, fingertips digging into Sam's hips, leaving marks he's sure Sam will feel in the morning.

"So tight, Sammy." He gives a slow, lazy thrust, eyes on Sam's. Sam moans loudly, and he's sure he must have hit Sam's prostate, so he grabs Sam's ass with both hands and fucks him harder, making Sam cry out above him, and god, Sam is so hot when he's like this, covered in sweat, muscles tight around him. Dean is seeing stars already, the heat inside him unfurling rapidly as his toes curl, struggling for purchase on the cheap cotton sheet, the sheet that's probably loose on the bed that is already starting to creak beneath them.

"So close, Dean," Sam says, and he sounds _wrecked_ , eyes blown wide with lust. Dean fucks Sam harder, the _slap-slap_ of skin against skin getting louder as he closes his hand around Sam's cock, strokes his thumb over the crown, smearing pre-come over Sam's skin.

Neither of them last long after that. Sam comes first, white slick coating Dean's chest, muscles tightening around his cock, and that's all it takes to send him over, biting his lip, spilling inside Sam with a muffled moan as his world goes white with bliss.

Sam collapses on top of him, forcing the wind out of him briefly. He closes his eyes, lets himself relax into the bed, getting as comfortable as he can with his brother's heavy weight on top of him. The smell of sex is strong, the air thick with it, but there's also the salty tang of sweat, mingled with the copper of blood and the earthy scent of dirt. He turns his head slightly, and he can barely see it, but the spot of dirt he noticed earlier has caught his attention again. He rubs his thumb over it, and he knows it really isn't another freckle when he drags his thumb along Sam's neck, and the dark substance follows.

"Oh man," he says, letting his hand fall to the side as he rests his head against the pillow. "We are so showering after this."

Sam grunts with what sounds like agreement, then sighs heavily and tucks his head against Dean's shoulder. Dean chuckles as he reaches over, absentmindedly carding a hand through his brother's hair as he lets his eyes fall closed.

Five minutes later, the smell has become a stench, and it's _really_ bothering him.

"Dude, now," he says, pressing a hand against Sam's shoulder, trying to move his brother's weight off him so that, even if Sam doesn't want to shower, at least _he_ can.

Instead, Sam groans and turns onto his side, sliding off him with a wet _slop_. He opens his eyes in time to see Sam, propped up on one elbow, eyes dark with renewed lust, and Dean has to suck in a breath as his brother smiles, feeling as though he could melt under the heat of Sam's gaze.

"As long as you're in there with me, I'm in."

Dean can't help but grin.

Celebratory shower sex? Fuck yes.


End file.
